"how are you andrea?"
"not good... nash?"
"yes?"
"do you think i will ever fit in? do you think i will ever let these scars fade away? can i eat food on my own, without throwing it up afterwards?"
"i hope..." his voice faded, and his eyes filled with sadness.
"i hope too..."
Then again, she thought to herself, hope breeds eternal misery.
YOU ARE READING
Cuts.
Short Storyi drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the ke...
